We sat in Cheryl’s pristine living room—the one I was never allowed to sit in. Olivia opened a briefcase and pulled out several files.
“Jenna, your mother left you a trust fund. A large amount for your future. But your aunt has been misusing it.”
The words hit me hard. Cheryl had been using my money? Olivia explained that the trust was for my education and living expenses, but Cheryl had been spending it to fund her lifestyle.
Before I could process this, Cheryl’s SUV screeched into the driveway. She stormed in with her kids, her face going pale when she saw Olivia.
“What’s going on?” Cheryl demanded.
Olivia stood, her voice calm but firm. “I’m here to discuss Jenna’s trust fund and how you’ve been mismanaging it.”
Cheryl’s facade cracked. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Olivia laid out bank statements on the coffee table. “These records show every withdrawal—vacations, private school tuition, luxury items—all paid for with Jenna’s money.”
Cheryl’s voice quivered. “That’s not true!”
I stood, fury rising. “You used me! You spent my mom’s money while I lived in the attic and you spoiled your kids!”
“You don’t understand!” Cheryl wailed. “Raising four kids isn’t cheap!”
“FOUR?!” I yelled. “I’m not one of your kids! I was just a paycheck to you!”
The room erupted, but Olivia’s voice cut through. “Cheryl, this is fraud. There are consequences. I suggest you sit down and cooperate.”
Cheryl’s world crumbled. Olivia filed a report, and Cheryl’s fraudulent spending was exposed. The trust was frozen, and legal proceedings began. I was placed with a kind foster family who welcomed me with open arms.
Meanwhile, Cheryl’s house was seized, her luxury cars repossessed, and Maddie had to leave her private school. Cheryl blamed me for her downfall, but I didn’t care. She had stolen years from me, but she couldn’t steal my future.
On my eighteenth birthday, Olivia handed me the remaining trust funds. Tears filled my eyes as I signed the final papers.
“Your mom would be proud of you,” Olivia said with a warm smile.
That night, sitting on my foster family’s porch, I looked at the stars and felt my mom’s presence, as if she were whispering, You made it, Jenna. You’re free.
Karma had caught up with Cheryl. I had a fresh start, and for the first time in years, I felt hope—and gratitude—for the future my mom had always wanted for me.